


lovely

by hezenvengeance



Series: the light lives in all places [5]
Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Body Worship, Comfort, Duskwight Elezen (Final Fantasy XIV), Elezen Warrior of Light (Final Fantasy XIV), Established Relationship, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Impromptu proposal, M/M, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:02:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25822573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hezenvengeance/pseuds/hezenvengeance
Summary: “Don’t you see, my warrior? The story of your life is writ here - how could I not love it?”a story of scars and sweetness, of a warrior learning to love himself as much as the exarch loves him.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Series: the light lives in all places [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1648006
Comments: 3
Kudos: 41





	lovely

When their wounds have been mostly mended and the people assured that neither the Warrior of Darkness nor the Crystal Exarch are on the brink of death any longer, Erebos had swept his lover away, all but carrying G’raha off up the steps to the Crystal Tower, ignoring the ache in his own legs in favour of keeping his love as close as bodily possible. They sequestered themselves inside for several days, Erebos unwilling to let G’raha out of his sight even for a moment, only hiding himself away to change clothes and wash up. His body had only been further disfigured in the time they had been apart, and Erebos felt that strange fear again, that he was keeping up some illusion of a perfect warrior and if G’raha saw him unclothed it would fall away.

They’re stripped down to plain sleep clothes and spread out on the Exarch’s bed; both their outfits still in dire need of mending, but it suits for now as they do little more than eat, sleep and talk. Erebos watches G’raha’s tail idly thump the mattress as he rattles off a long list of reparations overdue to the residents of Holminster, utterly enamoured with the little creases at the corners of his eyes when he furrows his brows.

“...And failing that, we could simply offer more permanent lodgings in the Crystarium, I know for a fact not everyone is eager to return to- Erebos? Are you there?”

The elezen blinks. “I- Yes. Sorry.”

“Is something wrong? If you are feeling unwell we should send for-“

“M’fine, G’raha. Promise.” He means it. There’s nowhere in all of Norvrandt, or any shard for that matter that he’d rather be right now. The dull pain of his injuries is background noise to what sits before him: G’raha Tia, full face on display, whiling away the night with the most mundane of talks. G’raha.  _ His _ G’raha. 

He reaches out to touch the Exarch’s hand, conscious of the fact that he is now the one being watched, and happy enough for it. G’raha’s hand is warm in his, deep red gaze inscrutable but the thump of his tail gives him away - the man is content. That makes two of them. 

Still, the Tower is a mite cold - whether G’raha prefers the lower temperature or if it is simply the nature of the structure itself, Erebos is too polite to ask - and the warmth radiating from his love’s hand speaks of comfort. Erebos’s fingers move till they rests on G’raha’s hip, the elezen tugging very gently, conscious of bothering the other man.

“G’raha, can you...” 

The Exarch tilts his head, ears turning, eyes questioning. “What?” 

Erebos balks -  _ ‘that was too cute’ _ \- quickly turning his face over into the bedspread to hide the blush rising in his cheeks. “...closer.”

The Exarch sighs, face turning to his classic pout as he pokes at the elezen’s side. “Erebos, smothering yourself in a pillow case is not conductive to an understandable conversation.”

Erebos rolls over on to his back with a heaving, over-dramatic sigh, the blush still prominent. “I want you closer, please.”

“You- Oh.” He’s quick to move, shuffling against the sheets to draw up level with his lover. “Like-“ The Exarch settles against his chest, head resting on Erebos’s shoulder. “Like this?”

Erebos tucks an arm around his waist, laying a kiss against his temple. “Perfect.”

They lie together in comfortable silence for a while; G’raha’s tail wraps around Erebos’s calf, his hand resting over the elezen’s heart. Erebos himself is nearly asleep when G’raha’s voice rises softly up to him, a gentle call of his name.

“Mm? Yes, G’raha?” Erebos mumbles, blinking away the encroaching sleep from his eyes. 

“You... You may call me Raha, if you wish.”

Still halfway to his dreams, Erebos begins to talk. “Hm? But that’s your-“ The missing sound finally clicks, and realisation dawns on the elezen as he looks down and catches his lover’s expectant, hopeful eye. His expression gentles as Erebos smiles softly back, and says, with all the heartfelt adoration he can muster, the name of the man he loves: “Raha.”

His lover’s face is an open book and Erebos sees the realisation of what exactly has been given to him slowly dawn in the Exarch’s bright red eyes, the flush creeping up to his markings, the bob of his throat as he swallows thickly. 

“Raha...”

That a name could mean so much, that the simple removal of a consonant could be so personal, so  _ intimate _ . 

Raha,  _ Raha _ , “ **_Raha_ ** .”

The kiss catches him off guard, G’raha rolling into his lap without preamble to claim his lips, Erebos too caught up in rolling his lover’s name around his mind and tongue to of seen the way the Exarch’s tail had swished in anticipation against his leg, a coiled spring ready to pounce. G’raha stakes his claim on Erebos now, nipping at his lip with sharp fangs, and the elezen sighs when his tongue slips inside to deepen their kiss. The miqo’te changes targets when Erebos pulls back for a breath, laying kisses and marks in equal measure along the unmarried side of his neck, moving down to the collar of his shirt. 

Clawed hands find the hem and move to lift, but Erebos jerks forward with a startled curse, holding the fabric down with far more force than necessary, a stricken expression plain on his face. G’raha balks, releasing the hem and addressing his lover with no small amount of worry.

“Erebos?”

“I- I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to, I-“

The Exarch makes a soothing noise in his throat. “Hush, love, I am only worried for you.”

Erebos clenches his fingers in the shirt. “I just... You don’t want to see this. I’m not a pretty sight.”

G’raha blinks. “Really? You look rather ravishing in my eyes.”

Erebos gives a chuckle, but it’s half-hearted, lacking warmth, and he refuses to meet G’raha’s gaze, hands flexing nervously in the sheets. 

There’s a shift in the air between them, the mischief fading from G’raha’s eyes and replaced with concern, and no small amount of gentleness. “You needn’t worry about aesthetics, Erebos. I am  not such a fool as to believe you have walked away from your many battles unscathed.”

The elezen fidgets uncomfortably below, shrugging a slight. “The scars are worse in person, you know. I wouldn’t think less of you if they put you off,” he says, feigning nonchalance even as his hands tremble. 

The Exarch shakes his head, and with slow movements tugs his shirt off, gently picking up Erebos’s hand and pressing it to the split of crystal and flesh on his chest. Erebos can feel his lover’s heart beating wildly under his fingers, doesn’t miss the self-depreciating smile G’raha wears. “It would make me quite the hypocrite to judge you for your imperfections, when my own body looks like this.” 

“You’re beautiful,” Erebos blurts out, not even stopping to think about it. 

His lover huffs out a breath under his hands, ears flicking. “You are kind to say so, my warrior,” G’raha begins, bringing Erebos’s hands to his lips to kiss along his knuckles before he can protest, “But see how quickly you jumped to my defense, even if it was against myself. Do you think I would not do the same for you?”

“I remember how you looked limmed in gold by the sunset, the blush high on your cheeks-“ G’raha starts, and Erebos snatches his hands back to hide his face in embarrassment, “-You were radiant, Erebos. You are, still. Your scars will not change this.”

Still, that kernel of doubt sits heavy in Erebos’s chest. G’raha leans forward, touches their foreheads together, those bright red eyes gentle and patient. “You needn’t show yourself if you are uncomfortable, Erebos. I should like to see you, but I would not cause you distress. Just rest, for now.” With that, G’raha slides off his lap, giving him room to spread out once more.

Erebos can feel that doubt simmering away in his chest; the fear of vulnerability, of rejection. But some desperate part of him wants to try, because G’raha has been vulnerable for him again and again, given so much for his sake. If this little thing is all he wants, then he is well within his rights to have it. 

The elezen hooks his fingers into the bottom of his shirt with one hand, tugging at the fraying hem as he reaches G’raha with the other, pulling him back in by the hips to seal his lips in a sweet kiss. He must look nervous, as the Exarch strokes a hand through his hair, slow and comforting. 

“Can you...” It’s barely a breath, but close as he is G’raha hears him.

“Yes, Erebos?”

“...Can you help me?”

The Exarch looks questioningly at him, ears flicking, till Erebos tugs at the hem of his shirt again, and G’raha’s face lights up with a soft ‘aha’. 

They lift together, and Erebos squeezes his eyes shut as more of his skin meets the cool air of the Tower and G’raha’s gaze. They fly open with a gasp however as his shoulder seizes, pain lancing through his left arm. G’raha freezes halfway through pulling Erebos’s arm through his sleeve, worry lacing his features. 

“What’s wrong? Erebos?”

The pain is already fading to a dull throb, and Erebos shakes his head, readjusting to free his arm with a wince. “Just that old injury. Ifrit.”

“Ah, your shoulder still troubles you, after all these years.”

“Mmm, moreso in the cold. I had a tincture to ease the pain, back in the Source-“ Erebos grunts as G’raha lifts the hem of his shirt over his head, shoulder straining, “-But I forgot it when I left. I’d forget my head if it wasn’t attached to my shoulders, I swear.”

“Even the Warrior of Darkness is not perfect, it would seem.” G’raha tugs the shirt collar over his nose but not quite over his head, opting instead to kiss Erebos sweetly, laughing at the pitiful whine the elezen makes at being unable to see. “Chessamile may be able to produce you a suitable alternative for your time here. It would be worthwhile to have her look, regardless; I know or have known no finer chirurgeon.”

“You just want to distract the poor woman from your own ailments,” Erebos grouses. 

G’raha tosses the shirt off to the side, holding his hands up in defeat. “You’ve caught me. But if you had to taste those potions, I’d imagine you’d think much the same.”

“Or you could simply eat your meals and keep regular hours of sleep, Raha.” The conversation is a distraction, Erebos knows, but it’s working, the hard stone of fear in his gut slowly losing its edge. But if anything it simply returns sharper than before as he realises G’raha is looking - no,  _ staring _ \- at his exposed torso. Dread fills his gut, and despite his best efforts to stay calm Erebos can feel his breath coming faster, his heart racing in mild panic. Eyes screwed shut for fear of what will greet him when they open, Erebos is acutely aware of G’raha’s warm weight in his lap, and the tentative rest of his hands on Erebos’s where they hold the sheets in a white-knuckle grip. He wants to cry. The thoughts spiral quickly -  _ ‘I’m a wreck, broken and beaten and a fool for thinking he’d still want me like this _ ’ - enough of a distraction that he doesn’t notice G’raha’s weight shift till he feels the featherlight brush of soft lips against his cheek. 

The Exarch doesn’t move when Erebos jolts, still holding his hands like fragile glass, like he’ll shatter with the slightest change in pressure - it’s accurate, in a way, as Erebos feels as though he might just break into pieces - just hovers close, close enough the elezen can feel the warmth radiating from his skin. That gentle touch comes again, grazing the thin scar that runs up his cheek. 

“I read of your exploits, Erebos, in great detail. The trials and tribulations that filled the time we were apart.” A kiss to his forehead. “I thought I had acquainted myself intimately enough with your prowess.” Another to the bridge of his nose. “But to see it laid bare before me-“ A soft kiss on his lips, “-I am sorry I could not be there, even if only to heal your hurts in the aftermath.” 

G’raha’s hands whisper about his jaw, tracing down from the long shell of his ears. “Your scars do not diminish you, Erebos. Proof of your hardships, of your strength. I would only ever prefer you without them to of spared you the pain of their infliction; you are as exquisitely handsome as the day we met.”

Erebos chokes on a weak laugh. “Now I know you’re talking out of your arse.” His tone quickly turns quiet, tremulous, giving voice to the thoughts that have haunted him for years. “I hate them, Raha. I hate myself, I have for as long as I can remember. I don’t- You  _ can’t- _ “

“I can and will,” G’raha says firmly, tone gentling as his hands slide from Erebos’s jaw and down his neck, slowly to his shoulders, “Don’t you see, my warrior? The story of your life is writ here - how could I not love it?” 

G’raha’s hand follows the jagged line Hades had cleaved into his chest, carved over parts already disfigured by countless primals. Beneath the fresh, puckered scar the left side of his chest is burned, the right littered with pockmark scars that spread to his shoulder, shifting into thin, spidery lines of lightning strikes imprinted on his forearms. He shudders and flinches with every new mark G’raha finds, waiting for the moment his lover will finally turn from him in disgust. 

Erebos chokes on his breath at the sudden touch of G’raha’s lips, pressed to the thin line cut across his collarbones - a parting gift from Zenos that had nearly killed him - and is suddenly extremely conscious of all the fine hairs left on his body standing on end as the cool touch of G’raha’s crystal hand finds it’s way to the aged tear on his lower left side, where Estinien’s lance, guided by Nidhogg’s rage, had found it’s mark. It’s an ugly thing, twisted and gnarled skin that never got a true chance to heal, melded into the slash across the small of his back Fray had left before they became one. Innocence’s brand now covers the burns left from the Ultima weapon across his back, raised skin across his spine and shoulder blades that tense as G’raha strokes his hand comfortingly over the expanse. Another kiss to the notch of his throat, gentle and tender that leaves Erebos trembling, saltwater sting at the corners of his closed eyes.

His voice is tremulous, an uncertain whisper. “I don’t understand, G’raha, how can-“

“How can I love you?” G’raha’s breath is warm against his skin where he huffs out a chuckle, punctuating it with another kiss bestowed to the centre of Erebos’s chest. “How could I not? How could I not adore the star that has charted my course?” 

Erebos can feel the tremor of his hands, the racing of his heart when G’raha comes up on to his knees and touches their chests together, kissing away the tears that slip down Erebos’s face. He can’t bear to open his eyes, afraid of what will look back; he can’t shake the dread coiling in his gut, the fear that G’raha will look too close, realise his mistake and leave him, cold and alone. 

“I am infinitely proud of you, my love,” G’raha whispers against his cheek, as if sensing the anxiety coiling in Erebos’s chest, “Proud to stand beside you, proud to know you, to of been the only one to know you like this.” Another kiss, this time to the slight scar the runs from temple to brow. “To me, what we have is a treasure beyond the values of men or immortals, pain and suffering and all the scars they leave behind included.”

The Exarch’s heart hammers against his own where their chests touch; knowing G’raha is just as nervous as he kicks in Erebos’s instinct to comfort him, and his hands move of their own accord to hold his lover close, loosening G’raha’s braid and combing out the pale ends to try and quell his own anxiety. Erebos finally chances a glance to the miqo’te. Patient love waits for him in that brilliant red gaze, and where Erebos moves to cup his jaw G’raha’s hands follow, an echoing tremor to the soft touch. 

“I don’t deserve you,” Erebos mumbles, after a long moment of searching G’raha’s gaze for something darker, an act which only leaves him feeling guilty. The Exarch shakes his head, unbraided hair coming free and spilling over his shoulders at the movement. 

“No, you deserve far better and more besides.”

Erebos feels his brows knit on reflex. “That’s not what I meant.”

G’raha chuckles again. “Apologies, I could not resist. I only wish for you to see yourself as I do, to love yourself as I love you, though I’m not entirely sure that’s possible.”

“Why’s that?” 

“Because I love you more than is comprehensible. Astronomically. Infinitely. Endlessly.” G’raha  _ beams _ then, eyes shining. “I would have waited forever for you, till the end of days and beyond.”

Erebos almost scoffs, but it sticks on the lump in his throat as new tears gather in his eyes. “You’re being dramatic.”

He gets a head tilt in response. “Hardly. ‘Tis how I feel.”

G’raha sweeps a thumb across Erebos’s cheek as the tears spill over. His voice is soft and gentle, a balm to the turmoil turning over itself in Erebos’s heart. 

“In all my years and hardships, I have learned love does not wait for us to recognise it has manifest,” the Exarch begins slowly, and he sinks further towards Erebos as the elezen moves his hands to gently frame G’raha’s hips, “I realised what I felt for you too late, and held that feeling in my heart for all the years that followed my seclusion - it only grew deeper and more vast with the distance - and held it still when I found you again, thinking to spare you the hurt of our inevitable parting.” 

A clawed hand comes to rest in the centre of Erebos’s chest, G’raha’s skin warm against his newest scar. Pain flashes across his features, replaced by a small, sad smile, the Exarch’s gaze downturned enough that his hair obscures his eyes from Erebos’s gaze. “I wronged you. Irreparably. I did not think myself worthy of your forgiveness, let alone your love.” 

One of Erebos’s hands abandons it’s place on G’raha’s side, instead rising to cup his jaw, turning his face up enough that the elezen can fill the weighted silence with a gentle, chaste kiss. G’raha melts into it, moving to chase as Erebos pulls back, but seems to remember himself halfway through the action, covering the hand Erebos holds to his cheek with his own as he speaks. “...But here you are, and here I am. The centuries and stars have parted for us, and it would be remiss of me not to tell you how I feel, to remind you of just how deeply my love runs for you at every chance. I owe you that much, dear heart.”

There’s a moment of silence as Erebos lets the words sink in, truly feels the strength of G’raha’s emotions; they find their home within his heart, a warm weight within his chest. Eventually, he sighs. 

“Now that,” Erebos says, capturing the Exarch’s lips in another quick kiss, “Was dramatic.” The miqo’te makes a noise of quiet indignance in his throat, but it dies as Erebos leans forward to kiss him again; once, twice, thrice, till his lover’s face splits into a smile and laughter spills from his lips. Better to make him smile before giving voice to his own clumsy thoughts.

“I... I may not have all the words to express it properly, I-I’m no bard,” Erebos begins haltingly, tripping earnestly over his words, “But I- I love you, Raha. I never forgot you. I couldn’t let you go, I resigned myself to never love again, I didn’t need, didnt want anyone else, I-“ 

“Breathe, love,” G’raha whispers gently in his ear, kissing his cheek, and Erebos does so. Inhale, exhale, till his thoughts no longer race to fall out of his mouth. 

The elezen takes a deep breath, and begins anew. “I love you. Only you. Only ever you. You say you wish I saw myself as you do, well I feel much the same.” He picks up G’raha’s hand, lays a kiss against his knuckles and marvels at the way his lover’s cheeks still flush at the action. “You claim not to be perfect, and that’s true. No-one is. But you’re perfect for me, Raha. Always have been, always will be.” 

G’raha’s mouth is just slightly agape, his face an open book of surprise. His lips eventually curl into a smile - a  _ smirk _ , one that Erebos remembers far too well - and he shakes his head. “For professing your lack of poetic talent, my warrior, you have a remarkable way with words.” The Exarch is back to touching him, exploring his body with hands that never linger in one spot for long, insatiable in their desire to map the expanse that houses the Warrior of Darkness. “Or perhaps it is simply that they fall from  _ your _ lips that makes my heart sing with elation.” Erebos tips his jaw up as G’raha mouths at his neck, nipping at the sensitive points of his pulse, and now Erebos’s cheeks flush for an entirely  _ different _ reason.

“Raha...” Erebos intones warningly, but his will is paper beneath G’raha’s skilled hands, the familiarity of his touch stoking the embers of desire that have slowly formed over the course of the evening. The Exarch must sense it, the subtle change in his demeanour that signals want, and is met with no resistance as he kisses Erebos deeply enough to steal his breath. 

“Are you well, dear heart?” There’s more to the question; ‘ _ do you want this? _ ’ and ‘ _ am I enough? _ ’ But Erebos presses another slow kiss to his lips before he answers, a gentle reassurance.

“Perfectly fine, Raha.” ‘ _ Yes, I want this _ ’. “So stop worrying, would you?” ‘ _ You’ve always been enough _ ’. 

The Exarch huffs, holding him close enough to pepper kisses up the column of his throat. “Duly noted.” 

They kiss and touch, as earnest as the old days, G’raha leading them both to arousal as he ghosts fingers teasingly over Erebos’s chest. The elezen grunts as his lover grinds down; their erections press insistently together and the friction leaves him reeling, offering no resistance as G’raha slips his tongue into his mouth. 

Erebos feels a tug at the waistband of his trousers, but the Warrior of Light has other ideas; he flips them, G’raha landing on the mattress with a  _ whump _ , too dazed by the motion to offer resistance as Erebos slips his grasp to move down his body, pressing kisses from his collarbones to his navel, pinning G’raha down with a hand to his stomach when he goes to sit up. 

“Easy there, Raha,” he murmurs, nipping at the skin just above G’raha’s waistband and marvelling at the insistent buck of his lover’s hips, “I’ve been dreaming of this for  _ years _ .” 

“Did you dream of me like this often, love? Wanting?” G’raha drags a hand down his own chest, sweat beading on his exposed skin, flush high on his cheeks, “Debauched and ready for you,  _ only _ for you?” He groans as Erebos mouths at his cock through the fabric, watching the elezen through half-lidded eyes as he peels his trousers back. His length springs free, already red and wet with precome. 

“Often. Too often. Not even two weeks ago, in fact.” 

The admission sends G’raha’s eyes flying open in surprise; they quickly squeeze closed as Erebos licks a long, languid stripe up the underside of his cock. He holds the tip on his tongue long enough for G’raha to open his eyes, and the heavy twitch and breathy moan are more than reward enough. 

It’s all the warning the Exarch gets before Erebos swallows him down. 

He’s not as talented as G’raha, has nowhere near the skill to achieve what he truly wants; but it’s enough to have G’raha,  **_his_ ** _ Raha _ , panting and moaning his name, the twitch of the hips under his hands and the cock in his mouth, jolting when Erebos hums appreciatively around his length. A hand fists in his hair and Erebos moans, breathing deep through his nose as G’raha bucks into his mouth desperately, his whines pitching higher the sloppier Erebos’s rhythm gets. 

All of a sudden the Exarch swears and tugs to pull him off, the both of them panting hard. Erebos’s brow knits in confusion, but he gives G’raha the minute he very obviously needs to collect himself, flushed down to his chest and his cock still wet with saliva, bobbing heavily with every breath. 

“That was wonderful, Erebos, incredible, I- I nearly lost myself to you.” Erebos’s mouth ticks up a slight at that, pride blooming in his chest, “But not yet, I want to- to  _ last _ , my love. We have  _ time  _ now. Let me make love to you as you deserve, dear heart.”

The request, made so ardently, with such obvious desire, crumbles Erebos’s plans into dust. He’d wanted the Exarch to take his pleasures, to make G’raha feel as good as he had atop the Crystal Tower, years ago. But he’s not one to refuse his heart. And his heart  _ wants _ .

G’raha sits up, gently tugging Erebos into his lap, peppering kisses over his chest, leastwise till Erebos tilts his face up with both hands to kiss him deeply, whining when the miqo’te nips at his lip. Two clawed hands drag up his thighs, inching them apart further to accommodate his lover below. One hand quests over the skin of his back, stroking down his spine and toward his entrance, then pauses. Erebos squirms.

“Why’d you stop?” He whines, pitiful and needy. 

G’raha presses a kiss to his shoulder, hiding his face there. His tone is awfully sheepish when he speaks; “In my excitement I seem to have mislaid a critical item.”

Erebos grunts. “Raha, I’m way too turned on for you to be talking circles around me like this,” he sighs out, rocking his hips for emphasis, and they both moan at the movement. 

“The oil, love. I can’t remember where I left it.” The Exarch is apologetic, and goes to shuffle out from beneath Erebos. “I’ll go and search, it will only take a moment-“

Erebos hands snake out quick as lightning, holding tightly. “ _ Don’t go. _ ”

“Erebos, we cannot-“

“There’s oil in my pack, side of the bed. Problem solved.” It comes out shorter than he would’ve liked, and an apology immediately springs to his tongue but the Exarch, ever conscious of his silent changes, stops him before he starts with a kiss. He smiles fondly up at him when they pull apart, stroking through the sweat-damp ends of his hair. 

“Full glad am I for your habit of collection,” G’raha murmurs with a soft chuckle, laying a quick peck on Erebos’s chin. He wraps a hand around the elezen’s shaft, giving a few quick, firm strokes that leave Erebos cursing into the crown of G’raha’s head, whining when the miqo’te lets go to reach for Erebos’s pack.

“The  _ oil _ , Raha,” Erebos hisses, scraping his nails against G’raha’s thighs in anticipation. It takes longer than either of them would like for the Exarch to rifle through Erebos’s pack and produce the bottle, but the redhead stretches up to capture Erebos’s lips in a sweet kiss, holding his prize just out of reach. 

“Let me, my love?” Words whispered against his cheek, pupils blown wide with want, the shift of his body below just enough that the head of his cock nudges at Erebos’s thigh.

Erebos is sure, in that moment, all the blood in his body is split between his face and his cock, painfully hard and blushing enough to match the eyes watching him, an edge of mischief to the Exarch’s smile. G’raha strokes a finger up his shaft and Erebos shudders out a breath. 

“Bloody tease.”

G’raha laughs at that, coaxing Erebos’s legs apart to press against his hole. It’ll be tight - Erebos has had neither the inclination nor the energy to do more than tug himself to sleep while in the First - and he hisses at the initial press. G’raha furrows his brows. 

“Relax, love. More oil, perhaps?”

Erebos nods, unable to form words around his need but conscious of ruining their night right before the main event. He watches G’raha coat his fingers again, reaching for Erebos to slick between his legs, the quick stroke he gives to his cock making Erebos swear. 

Erebos sinks forward against G’raha as first finger presses in, whining against the side of G’raha’s face and almost smothering him against his chest till he adds a second, stretching him open as gently as possible, but that reticent pace is enough to make Erebos whimper with need as his cock leaks steadily between them. He drags his nails across the flesh of G’raha’s back, revels in the shudder it brings out, even as G’raha slips a third finger inside him and crooks against the spot that he knows will make Erebos see stars; his whole body jolts, nearly knocking the miqo’te off balance. G’raha puts a hand back to steady them as Erebos clings to him, moans needy and desperate, rocking his hips back on to the Exarch’s hand as he works him open.

“You are truly beautiful like this, dear heart,” G’raha’s words are a pant in his ear, his cock white hot and heavy against Erebos’s hip, and the elezen whines into their kiss as G’raha curls his fingers again, “If only you could see yourself.”

“M’ready Raha, want- want you.” It’s been far too long, Erebos nearly incoherent with his need, lifting his hips and groaning as G’raha slips his fingers out and moves to coat his shaft with the oil, watching raptly as the Exarch bites his lip at the sensation. 

Erebos leans them both over, till G’raha sinks into the sheets and the elezen can hold himself above, leastwise till the Exarch tugs him down for another kiss. Erebos moans as a tongue slips into his mouth, the kiss turning messy and desperate as Erebos grinds down, aching for some sort of sensation. When he’s allowed to pull away, Erebos draws himself up, placing a palm on G’raha’s chest to steady himself and reaching back to take his lover in hand, thumbing at the head of his cock till G’raha sinks his claws into Erebos’s thighs in frustration.

“Now who’s-  _ nngh _ \- teasing?”

If Erebos had more of a sense of himself, he might of laughed. As is, he just wants. He sinks down on G’raha’s shaft with agonisingly slowness, thighs trembling, but the sensation is  _ incredible _ ; Erebos can feel every inch of G’raha inside him, throbbing and twitching and stretching him out as Erebos takes him all the way down to the base. 

“I can...  _ Ahh _ , gods above, Raha, you- I can  _ feel _ you-“ He chokes on the words as G’raha flexes his thighs, a sharp gasp at the crystal hand closed around his leaking cock. G’raha strokes experimentally, whining as Erebos clenches around him at the motion, head bowed and panting. If the lust clouding G’raha’s bright eyes and the part of his lips says anything, it’s that he’s enjoying the sight and sensation before him, and he says as much as he adjusts his hips again, Erebos moaning softly in response.

“You feel incredible, Erebos,  _ ahh _ \- Move love, I have you. It is - _ hah _ , alright, it’s alright.”

It starts with the tiniest rock of his hips, but it’s enough to make them both gasp at the motion; Erebos working out a steady rhythm, G’raha quickly abandoning his hold on Erebos’s shaft to help coax his shaking thighs up and down, the elezen crying out as the Exarch thrusts up to meet him. 

“G’ra-  _ ahhh! _ Raha,  **_my_ ** Raha, so good,  _ nngh _ -“ Erebos moans out to the ceiling, head thrown back and gasping as G’raha’s cock presses up against his spot again and again. His legs are aching, but G’raha’s guiding hands keep him rocking against his lover. 

“ _ Haah-ha _ , making an-  _ ah! _ \- old man do all the work, hm?” The Exarch grins up at him through half-lidded eyes, the expression an echo of an older time and Erebos’s heart clenches in time with his fist in the sheets, the heat coiling steadily in his gut. He smirks unsteadily back, pushing the hair away from his sweat-slicked forehead and drawing a hand down G’raha’s chest, revelling in the difference between heated skin and cool crystal. 

“You love it, don’t,  _ ah _ \- don’t lie.” 

G’raha surges up suddenly, planting a hand on the centre of Erebos’s chest to push him on to his back, hooking a long leg over his shoulder in one fluid motion. The sudden fall leaves Erebos winded but the Exarch gives him only seconds to catch his breath before he thrusts forward, hard and fast, fucking Erebos into the mattress with a ferocity that belies his need and leaves Erebos crying out with every stroke. A hand finds his cock, red and weeping with neglect against his stomach, tugging harshly till toes curl against the Exarch’s back, Erebos so overcrowded with sensations he feels he could burst, reaching for the hand G’raha has hooked around his thigh to tangle their fingers together. G’raha smiles down at him; devotion shines in his eyes, in the reassuring squeeze he gives Erebos’s hand, in the way he leans forward to kiss the elezen soundly, perfectly. 

“I love you, Erebos, I love you,” G’raha breathes against his cheek, and Erebos swears he stops breathing; there’s something soul shattering about the declaration in this state, joined as they are. He can definitely feel the sting of tears in the corners of his eyes, but between the hand wrapped around his shaft and the snap of G’raha’s hips he doesn’t get chance to cry. He comes with a wordless shout, sinking his teeth into G’raha’s shoulder and his nails into his back - the Exarch is marked now, if he wasn’t before - as he rides out his orgasm, release spurting over his chest and stomach. 

G’raha still moves inside him, panting against the side of Erebos’s face, tail swishing rapidly behind him. “I am- I am almost-  _ oh Erebos, gods above _ -“ 

“I have you,” Erebos murmurs back, kissing along whatever parts of G’raha he can reach, swallowing down his whine at the overstimulation. A few more thrusts and his lover’s hips stutter, and G’raha pushes himself inside fully before he comes, filling Erebos with his release, tail stood ramrod straight. The elezen can feel it pooling on the sheets beneath him as G’raha pulls out but can’t bring himself to move, too enamoured by the look of exhausted bliss before him. He must be smiling, because the Exarch perks up slightly, and gives him one back so full of adoration that it would make him blush if he had the energy. As is, they both lay paused against eachother, breathing heavily; dazed, exhausted, but ultimately, finally content.

With a soft sigh, G’raha rolls off, tucking himself close against Erebos’s side. The elezen trails his fingers down his lover’s back, stopping to scratch idly at the base of his tail. The Exarch jumps, swatting at Erebos’s bare chest, and Erebos chuckles softly against the top of his head. 

“Sorry, sorry.” He’s still laughing.

G’raha pouts against his skin, ears flat. “No you’re not.”

“Not really, no. In my defence,” he begins, stroking a finger against the join and laughing again as G’raha shivers, “That’s more than worth any retaliation.”

“You are a ridiculous man.” There’s no bite to the statement.

Erebos grins. “You’re in bed with this ridiculous man.”

“Indeed I am...” G’raha sinks in further, laying a kiss on Erebos’s chest. “And there are few places I would rather be, truth be told.”

Erebos’s fingers find those silver-red strands again, teasing G’raha’s hair out in steady motions. “Mm, me too.” The movement is making  _ him _ sleepy, let alone his lover. G’raha is quick to pick up on it, as always.

“Are you tired?”

The thought passes through his mind that they’re both still a mess, that the come drying on his stomach and thighs will be a nightmare to clean off if he leaves it. A sudden, more sinister stone of panic also begins to take shape in Erebos’s breast; that if he sleeps, G’raha will be gone when he wakes. His answer is tentative. 

“...No.” 

G’raha yawns. “You needn’t stay up for me, love. We can sleep.”

Still Erebos shakes his head, holding G’raha closer. He feels the Exarch shift, the tilt of his head as he peers up at Erebos’s frown.

“Erebos... I will not disappear, you know.”

“I... I know.”

“But?”

Erebos bites his lip, head bowed. He can’t bring himself to voice his worry; something that seems so inconsequential, but it stapled his nightmares for so long after he lost the man before him the first time that the mere thought of G’raha disappearing again is enough to break him out into a cold sweat. It’s silly. He’s being ridiculous, of that much he’s sure, but G’raha reaches up to frame his face with both of his strong hands, turning Erebos’s jaw and stroking tenderly at his cheeks to coax his ice-blue gaze down to his lover. 

“I am sorry that I have burdened you with these worries, dear heart,” G’raha says softly, and Erebos can hear the grief he feels mirrored in the Exarch’s voice, “I cannot change the past, but I can make you a promise: I will be here when you wake, today, tomorrow and all the days we have together that follow. I no longer wish to part from this world, Erebos. I want to see dusk and dawn with you, as many time as you will allow.” The Exarch scoots up to punctuate the statement with a kiss, so soft and gentle, cradling his face like he’s something fragile, precious; Erebos doesn’t realise he’s crying till G’raha’s fingers move to sweep the tears away, laying kisses on the silver tracks they leave down his face, sealing his lips with sound kisses every time Erebos goes to say ‘sorry’. 

Erebos is quick to calm, turning to gather G’raha up in his arms and kiss them both into laughter, the Exarch wriggling out of his arms in search of rags with biteless complaints about the state of them. He returns in two blinks, perhaps sensing Erebos’s latent anxiety over his absence, setting a bowl of warm water on the bedside table and already wringing out a rag as he clambers back on to the bed and sets to work cleaning the elezen up. There’s little that needs saying, Erebos content to let himself be moved and scrubbed as necessary, once again watching, with rapt attention, the subtle changes that flit across G’raha’s face; the furrow of his brow, the flick of his ears, the gentle swish of his tail against Erebos’s leg. 

“...Raha.”

G’raha doesn’t look up. “Yes, Erebos?”

“Would you marry me?”

G’raha balks, freezing mid-swipe between Erebos’s thighs. “T-That is- Erebos! You can’t just throw questions like that into the air! What happened to resting!”

Erebos is still far too relaxed for his own good. “The thought just came to me, with what you said about staying. If we’re together anyway, then-“

“There are too many things to consider, too many things in the way!” The Exarch has all but abandoned his efforts, instead throwing his hands up in frustration. “It would not be right, Erebos, it- it would not be fair!”

Erebos frowns. “Forgive me for being a fool, but I don’t understand, Raha.” 

“You are far from a fool, and I will hear no more such talk,” G’raha states firmly, his markings creasing as his brows draw together and he breathes a long-suffering sigh. “Our circumstances are unique, Erebos. I do not know how long I may uphold the link between this star and yours. Not to mention the real Raha,  _ your _ Raha, is still slumbering in the Source.”

“But you’re my Raha, just as he is. The time we spent apart may be much longer but you’re still... you’re still mine. My Raha, the man I love.”

He still doesn’t look convinced; There is something tense in his body language, some unspoken hurt Erebos is sure he’s not giving voice to. The elezen reaches for his hands to twine their fingers, waiting patiently for G’raha to speak his true thoughts. The Exarch is silent for a long moment. 

Eventually he sighs, softer this time. “I... I would not have you bind yourself to so uncertain a future, my love,” G’raha answers quietly, his eyes so suddenly haunted, “I could not bear to break your heart again.”

Erebos answers in a heartbeat. “I would find you.”

“What?” G’raha breathes, ears turning in surprise. 

“I would find you. Just like you found me,” Erebos says decisively, holding G’raha’s gaze with a gentle intensity, “I can’t explain it very well, I’m not articulate like you-“ the Exarch scoffs at that, “But I think- I think that we’re meant to find each other. That my heart will always find it’s home in yours; like it’s in our bones, our very  _ aether _ , to be together.”

“I... Erebos...”

“I just- I know it seems silly and irrelevant, with all these other things happening. Everything else seems so much bigger, more important, but I want- I want you.” Erebos catches his gaze, finds brilliant red eyes misting, “I think I’ll only ever want you, truly. So...”

“Oh, Erebos,” G’raha breathes, reaching over to hold the elezen to him, “What a pair of sentimental fools we are.” There are tears clinging to the ends of G’raha’s eyelashes; Erebos gently sweeps them away, cupping his jaw as he leans down to kiss the crown of his lover’s head. 

“Are we going to cry everytime we sleep together, Raha?”

The Exarch laughs wetly. “I should hope not!” He reaches for the rag again, only to yelp as Erebos pulls him up, close enough to kiss. It’s slow, steady; G’raha melts easily into it, any notion of cleaning up quickly forgotten as they tangle together all too readily once more. 

“Love you, Raha,” Erebos mumbles against G’raha’s lips, capturing them in another languid kiss. He slips his tongue into the Exarch’s mouth and can’t help the faint stirring of heat as his lover moans in response, heat that blooms as a clawed and crystal hand finds its way down to his navel to ghost over the head of his hardening shaft. It’s so easy for G’raha to spur him on, the exhaustion fading fast to leave a lambent hunger in its wake; Erebos sighs as G’raha wraps a hand around him, head falling back in the pillows, and it only takes a few languid strokes to have him fully hard again. G’raha’s length prods insistently at his thigh, and Erebos laughs as he shifts his leg and his lover whines at the friction, rubbing up against him for more. 

Erebos quirks a brow. “Again?” 

“Only if you are willing, love,” G’raha grits out, shivering as Erebos takes him in hand and strokes experimentally, “I am more than,  _ ahh _ , more than capable of taking care of myself.”

The elezen huffs out a breath, a smirk playing on his lips. “I should like to see that-” he breathes; G’raha squeaks embarrassment, the sound morphing into a whimper when Erebos lets him go to shift out from under him, offering his back, “-But I want you.”

The Exarch is quick to move, drawing flush against Erebos’s spine. He lays kisses across the scars that sit there, hands roaming aimlessly as the elezen fishes for the oil again; he doesn’t need much, already open and waiting to be filled. Erebos grinds back against G’raha, letting the miqo’te hook his leg up into the air as he leans back for a kiss. He whines when he feels the head of the Exarch’s cock nudge his entrance once more, sliding inside easily, feels G’raha’s hand snake around to touch his chest. G’raha pants and moans against his spine, thrusts slow and deep and deliberate, their fingers laced over his heart (and a tail wrapped round his raised ankle). 

“Touch yourself,” the Exarch commands, in that low, authoritative register that makes Erebos shiver with want as he fumbles to do as he’s bid, blindly stroking his cock in time to G’raha’s thrusts, the heat building steadily in his gut once more. G’raha hums his approval out against Erebos’s back; the elezen moves faster in response, his breath coming harsher and moans pitching higher and higher. 

There’s a kiss pressed between his shoulder blades as G’raha drives into him, hitting the sweet spot with every slow roll of his hips to leave Erebos gasping and moaning in turns. He can feel that undeniable sensation almost upon him, and slows his hand, wanting to prolong their lovemaking as long as possible. 

G’raha huffs against his back, running his tongue along Erebos’s spine. “Don’t hold back, dear heart, I want to-  _ oh _ , I want to feel you again,” The Exarch murmurs softly, lips brushing his scars with such tenderness, “Come for me, Erebos.”

It’s as easy as that. G’raha presses deeply inside him, sinking sharp teeth into his shoulder as Erebos constricts around his cock and comes with cries of his name- “Raha-  _ mmm _ , Raha,  _ Raha! _ ” 

The Exarch follows him quickly over the edge, and the elezen shivers as G’raha comes inside him again, thick and hot, dripping down his thighs and on to the ruined sheets. G’raha’s thrusts gradually slow as he works his release into his lover, Erebos stroking himself through the last of his orgasm till overstimulation wins out over pleasure and he is completely, utterly spent. 

They lay there, in exhausted silence, for a good moment; Erebos counts the beats by G’raha’s breath, steadying itself slowly against his back. He can feel G’raha softening, but doesn’t particularly mind, and only sighs when the Exarch remembers himself and pulls out, letting go of the elezen’s leg and gently turning Erebos on to his back - ever attentive, spent as he is. G’raha leans over to kiss him, slowly and soundly, an elbow balanced on his chest to hold his head and his free hand carding through Erebos’s hair. The Exarch looks particularly lovely, flushed and sweat-slicked from their exertions, a satisfied smile playing on his lips and his fading hair framing his pretty face as the miqo’te leans back to appraise his lover, the hand in Erebos’s hair trailing down to what the elezen can only assume is the bite mark left on his neck. It pulses dully under G’raha’s touch, and his smile shifts into something more apologetic, almost sheepish. 

“Ah, it seems I was... somewhat overzealous.” 

Erebos shrugs under his hands. “Perhaps. Felt nice, though.” He chuckles softly as G’raha bats at his chest in embarrassment, tail swishing in the air. They fall into contented silence once more, watching each other fondly, till Erebos remembers his earlier question that the Exarch had so thoroughly distracted him from.

“So? Would you?”

G’raha hums questioningly. “Would I what?”

“Marry me.”

“Agh-  _ Erebos! _ ”

“I’m serious!” Erebos retorts, sitting up slowly as G’raha pulls back on to his knees. 

The Exarch meets his gaze, something bittersweet in his eyes and tone. “I know you are, dear heart.”

Erebos touches G’raha’s shoulder. “...Raha, if you don’t want to...” He stops as the miqo’te covers Erebos’s hand with his own, squeezing gently.

“Will you give me a day? To think about it?”

Erebos presses, not entirely convinced. “Raha, seriously-“

But G’raha cuts him off. “I just want to make sure that I am... that I am not simply being selfish.” His smile still carries that edge of sadness, but Erebos shakes his head.

“If anything, I’m being selfish asking,” The elezen says softly, searching G’raha’s gaze, “If it’s not what you want you needn’t feel pressured.”

“That’s just it, my warrior,” G’raha says matter of fact-ly, “I want it, want  _ you _ , far too much. More than is reasonable. You are tired, which is why I won’t, but I could quite happily make love to you all day and night if you wished.”

“I...” Erebos blinks, blush rising back in his cheeks even as his cock gives a weak twitch of interest. “W-What happened to you being an old man with no stamina?!”

He gets laughter in answer. “Hah! Of all the things to stick! But we are in the Tower, my love. My energy is supposedly limitless within...” G’raha’s tone goes sultry, brings further red to Erebos’s cheeks till his lover begins to chuckle once more, wiping away stray tears before he continues, “To tell truth? Your presence makes me feel like we are young again, two fools meddling in matters far beyond our ken. Though I admit-“ His voice gentles, crystal hand trailing absentmindedly over Erebos’s chest, “-I am glad we have both grown enough to be open with our feelings.”

“Agreed.” A beat. “I love you, Raha. Bonded or no, it doesn’t matter. I love you.”

“And I love you, dear heart. What’s to say we get cleaned up?”

“I suppose,” Erebos sighs, then stops. “Wait. How big is your wash tub?” 

“The  _ baths _ ,” G’raha says, and Erebos does not miss the emphasis on the plural, “Are more than big enough for both of us.” He stands up and offers Erebos a hand, smiles down at him gently. “Shall we?”

Erebos smiles back, and takes his hand.

* * *

G’raha, somewhat predictably, says yes. 

Little changes. There is a certain new giddiness about the Warrior of Darkness and the Crystal Exarch now, onlookers say, and when in the same space they rarely stray from each-others sides, holding hands or with arms around waists, kisses in quiet corners. Some have even claimed to hear them call each-other ‘husband’, though neither wear a band or token. 

A rather brave child ends up confirming the speculation by simply asking outright, as children are wont to do. Word spreads through the Crystarium and further afield like wildfire; the Exarch’s husband, the Warrior of Darkness. 

Feo Ul comes around to complain (loudly) that they were not invited, with half of Il Mheg in tow. The Chais follow not long after, with much the same words, though with far more tears on Dulia’s part. Lyna keeps a straight face in front of them, but Erebos catches the tail end of the Captain laying into his husband (his  _ husband! _ ) about his tendency to keep secrets - especially from family - and resolves to assure her that it was all rather sudden, and his idea at that. 

Well wishes flood in from every corner of Norvrandt, and once again Erebos is astounded by the sheer number of lives he has touched, at how many people care for his happiness. Gifts and letters show up every day; an automaton from the dwarves in Tomra shaped like a frog, an immaculate cake from Kai-Shirr and his friends at the Beehive, enchanted ink and two matching bound journals from the Nights Blessed, beautiful clothes spun from faerie silk from Il Mheg (that they both  _ promise _ Feo Ul they will wear to the ceremony, whenever they find time to have it). Even Ryne leaves them a letter, and Erebos keeps it in his pocket, close to his heart, folding and unfolding it to read the words his companion in fate wrote -  _ ‘I wish for your eternal happiness; you give me hope for my future, and the future of us all’  _ \- till the pages are permanently creased. 

He’s still not all that sure he deserves all this fuss. He knows the Exarch feels the same. But they are both learning to be loved as they deserve, by each other and those around them, day by day.

After all, they have time. 


End file.
